After Effects
by AllIsNotLost
Summary: It's been five years since Sarah ran the Labyrinth, and two years since she started seeing them. They started showing up when she was eighteen, and have hunted her ever since. She's used to living on the run by the time a familiar face shows up with shocking information from her past. Can he save Sarah from her hunters and from her past? Takes place in modern day.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: This is my first fanfic ever so please let me know what you think, sorry the first chapter is kind of boring. I tried to dedicate it to character development. You will find out more about Sarah being chased in the much more exciting second chapter which I promise to have uploaded in a couple days, but for now please please please just let me know what you think of what I have so far. I'm open to any constructive criticism.

I was more than accustomed to living on the run. I first started seeing them when I was eighteen. Now, two years later, they still hunted me, even though I had run so far that I currently lived in a city just south of Atlanta, Georgia. My only constant companion was a large German shepherd named Duke that lived primarily in the passenger seat of my car. I wasn't sure why they hunted me, but I had a general idea. It had something to do with the events that had transpired five years earlier, when I wished away my baby brother, Toby. To earn the money I needed to pay for myself and Duke, I worked as a waitress during the day and accompanied men on dates at night. I was too moral, and frankly too proud, to sleep with the men I accompanied, but I made a decent sum going with lonely men who were too ashamed to go to parties and corporate events single.

Tonight I would be attending a gala with a frequent customer, but that was a good eight hours away, after my shift ended. Currently it was noon and a customer had just seated himself in one of the cracked, red pleather booths. I grabbed a menu, the little note, pad and a pen then made my way over there.

The man had fiery orange hair that faded to more of a blonde where it was closer to his scalp. His features were odly angular and delicate - almost like an elf or a fairy. His eyes were a glacial blue, but one pupil was considerably more dialated than the other one. I couldn't help but stare. That face was so odly familiar, but I couldn't place where I could have possibly seen it before. He was obviously educated and well payed. He had that haughty sort of demeanor. He wore a simple white button down shirt with black slacks. On his rather attractive face rested a large pair of spectacles that looked straight out of the seventies. On his slim wrist resided an expensive looking watch - a Rolex if I wasn't mistaken. His skin was pale and he was unnaturally slender. Maybe the stress of educated high paying jobs wasn't worth the money. I would never know. He cleared his throat, alerting me of my staring.

"Can I help you?" I blurted out, sounding unintentionally rude. "Er- can I get you a drink?"

The man laughed and the beginnings of a sly smirk grew on his face. "Just water, thanks," he responded. He had a distinct British accent. I handed him the menu and hurried back to the kitchen.

Because of the short staff, I had been able to sneak Duke in. The manager rarely showed up, except to collect money, so the only people who were working were me, Mary, another waitress and my only friend, and Ty, the lone fry cook.

Mary was a curvaceous blonde with eyes the hue of molten milk chocolate. She looked marvelous in everything - even the unflattering white polo shirt and jeans we waitresses wore as a uniform. She was 22 and just graduated from college so she was working as a waitress until a kindergarten teaching position opened up. She would be the perfect teacher with her paitience, kindness, and cademeanor. In other words, the complete opposite of me. I was thin as a stick with just as many curves. I was so flat chested that she didn't even need to wear a bra most days, thanks to the years of ballet. Although I had enough charm to manipulate the men who paid me to be their date, my personality usually ranged from a little cold to outright hostile. I generally liked people, but being chased for two years kept me from trusting them. Even before that though I had had a hard time letting people close to me because my mother had passed away when I was so young. For some reason, though, I had managed to befriend Mary. We were close enough, even after knowing each other for only a month, that Mary had invited Me to move into her small apartment. I had accepted. At the time I had been living at a Motel 6.

Ty was Mary's boyfriend, and I loathed him. He was gargantuan, standing a staggering 6'10", and had the muscles of Arnold Schwartzenager during his body building days. He had a tattoo or an ouroboros circling one massive bicep, and an ankh tattooed on the other. His black hair was shaved close to his head, and his black eyes were unfeeling pits. Looking at them was like staring into a well so deep that the light couldn't reach it. The way he treated Mary was appalling. He grabbed her and ordered her around as if she were some possession of his. As if she were his slave. He tried to crush her spirit and draw out the kindness and sensitivity that made Mary so absolutely wonderful. Because she had been abused as a child and shuffled from one foster home to another until she was emancipated, she had a hard time standing up to people who told her they loved her, whether it was the truth or not.

Mary handed me the glass of water for the customer and I headed back out. He had set the menu aside and was now gazing intently at the screen of his phone as if trying to figure out how it worked. I set down the glass and brought out the pad of paper and pen I had tucked away in the black apron tied around my waist.

"Can I take your order?" I asked in the bubbly, happy waitress voice I learned from Mary, trying to make up for the awkwardness of my staring earlier.

He turned and stared into my eyes with the same intensity with which he had been staring at his phone. He looked into my green eyes as if he were searching for something and trying to figure me out. The look passed quickly and he responded, "I think I'll have... a hamburger?"

"Good choice," I commented, picking up the discarded menu. "If you don't mind my saying, you look like you could do with a good fatty hamburger. You don't look like you eat too terribly much."

"No," he muttered, staring into my eyes again. "I don't particularly care for things so trivial as eating."

Odd, I thought, but I just gave him a quick smile and headed back to the kitchen. I could feel his eyes on me until the kitchen door swung shut behind me. I gave Ty the slip of paper with the customer's order on it and sat down on the floor next to Mary who was petting Duke.

"Do you want to go out for drinks tonight? It's Saturday and we haven't been out for a night on the town in ages," Mary asked hopefully.

"I can't," I sighed and layed my head against the wall.

"Oh," Mary said, trying to hide her disappointment. "Do you have a - erm - 'date?'"

I nodded dismally.

"That's cool!" Mary said in a falsely cheerful voice. "Yeah, Ty and I can have a night in." Something close to panic swam in her eyes as she said that. I grabbed her arm and dragged her out the back door to the parking lot, where Ty couldn't hear us.

"Tell me straight," I commanded. "Does Ty beat you?"

Her eyes were answer enough. She refused to look me in the eye, instead starting at her blue keds. I could see the purple bruises on her stomach and back through her white polo shirt.

"Dammit!" I shouted, unable to control my temper. "You can't let him treat you like that Mar! He doesn't deserve you! You're an amazing person. You can do so much better than him." My voice became gentle for the last two sentences.

"He loves me," she countered in a meek voice. "Maybe I can change him. There has to be a good person in him somewhere."

I hugged her and whispered, "People like him don't change." I didn't have the heart to tell her that he didn't love her. I let her out of the embrace and stared into those soft brown eyes with tears about to spill over. I hated when she cried. I wiped away the one tear of hers that fell. "I'm sorry," I whispered and walked back inside.

I stared daggers at Ty as I ripped the hamburger from his grip. How dare he hurt someone as wonderful as Mary? The customer was staring at me as soon as I walked into the main dining area from the kitchen. Dear God just let this day be over, I thought as I walked over to the table. Creepy staring customer, a somewhat one sided fight with Mary, what else could this hell of a day have in store for me?

I sat the food down on the table. I would have topped off his glass of water, but it was untouched. He was still staring at me. Why did he keep staring at me? "Can I get you anything else?" I asked.

"That'll be all. Thank you, Sarah," he muttered, looking at the hamburger briefly before flicking his eyes back to me. As I walked back to the kitchen, I felt his eyes boring holes into my back. Mary met me at the door.

"Do you know him?" Mary asked.

"Who?" I returned.

"Mr. Creeper over there, staring at you. Who else?"

"I have no idea. I feel like I've met him before but he's clearly someone important so I don't know how I would."

"Well he clearly knows you."

"What makes you say that?"

"Um the fact he just said your name perhaps, even though you lost your name tag a week ago. 'Thank you, Sarah.' Remember that from two seconds ago?"

I hadn't even thought about it. How did he know my name? I walked out to ask him just that, but he was gone. A wad of cash was next to the untouched plate of food. I walked out to the table with Duke just behind me. He sniffed the seat where the man had been and growled his most menacing growl. Who was that man?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So here's the second chapter! I realized after I published the first chapter I forgot a disclaimer so: I do not own _Labyrinth _or any of its characters. That privelege belongs to Jim Henson and company**

I sat in the bathtub, feeling the hot water from the shower head pour on my face. I always loved taking long showers. The shower was a place for thinking. Most people think of deep things while lying in bed at night, but not me. I couldn't because I feared I may dream of what I think about.

When I closed my eyes, I saw a woman kneeling beside her bed. Her hands were folded in prayer on the bed and she layed her forehead on them. Her body wracked with sobs, but the tears had run out. Her face contorted in horrible pain that broke my young heart. When she heard me, she lifted her head and her brilliant eyes - two glistening emeralds - stood out in her hollow, pale face which was the color of cream except for her flushed, red cheeks.

I saw the same pair of eyes staring at me, now with joy in them. They were looking at me through the observation window in the dance studio. She loved watching me dance, even when everything else was falling apart for her. She herself was a professional ballet dancer, and I had the same passion as her, even at that age. Tendu, pliè, tendu, pliè. Such was my life. Someone tapped her shoulder and she turned around.

The scene changed, but the woman's position had not; however, she was now facing a golden barn owl rather than another human being. The sun shone down, glistening off the owl's feathers and the woman's silk headscarf with it's beautiful floral pattern. The woman had lost all of her beautiful dark curls. They had been falling out for some time. Strangely enough, she seemed to be pleading with the owl who, even more strangely, seemed to be listening.

My thoughts were interrupted by a sharp scratch on the bathroom door. Duke was getting impatient, either for his dinner or for my attention. I turned off the water and dried off then wrapped myself in my soft pink bathrobe and put on the two necklaces which almost never got taken off. "Mary!" I called out. "Will you feed Duke?" No response other than the sound of dog food being scooped out of a bag.

I wiped the steam off the small mirror and admired the necklaces settled between my breasts. One was a golden crucifix which had belonged to my mother. Just below it was a small golden, circular locket. Inside resided two pictures - one of my mother while she was still healthy, the other was my half brother Toby while he was still a baby. My phone began vibrating, about to fall off of it's precarious position on the edge of the sink. I answered and was immediately greeted by a young boy's voice. "Sarah!" It called.

I couldn't help but let a smile stretch my lips. I loved that voice, and who it belonged to even more. "Hi Toby," I responded with a slight laugh.

"Sarah, I miss you. When are you coming back?"

I felt her a pang in my heart. My smile was gone. " I've told you Toby, I can't come back. At least not for a very long time."

"But why not? I miss you..."

"It's dangerous. I would come back if I could but I don't' want you to get hurt. I love you too much, Toby."

After a while, he responded. "I love you too, Sarah."

The next thing I heard was my father's gruff voice. "We all miss you Sar bear. Irene keeps your room impeccably clean, just in case you ever want to come home. She loves you, whether you believe it or not. You know I love you and you can tell me anything. Just tell me why you can't come back."

"I just can't. I'm sorry," and with that I hung up. _I_ do _want to go home_, I thought. _I wish I could have taken the scholarship to Joffrey and danced and visit home all the time, but I can't_. They _won't let me_.

I wiped the pesky tear from my eye and set to work on my hair. It had gotten so curly in the last few years, I hardly knew how to handle it. I ran a brush through it while it was still wet and I had the chance. If I brushed it while it was dry, it would become an unmanageable lion's main. I looked down at the brush when I was done and took in the alarming amount of hair in the bristles. I felt the back of my head in the patch where my hair was thinning. _No matter_, I thought, pushing the worry aside.

I arranged my hair into a neat chignon over that annoying thin patch, with just a couple ringlets left hanging down to frame my face. For make up I did a smoky eye to hilight my best feature, and finished the look with a tad of soft, pink lipstick. A slipped out of my robe and into my evening gown. It was pale green chiffon and had enough length to brush the floor. One thick strap went over my left shoulder. There intricate pearl beading circled my slim waist, making me look as if I had some sort of womanly curvature.

I put on my strappy black heels and stepped outside the bathroom and walked over to my room. I had a small twin bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. That was about all that would fit in the small, beige room. I pulled my suitcases out from the small closet and threw them on my bed. I emptied the contents of my dresser drawers on the floor and started folding. I packed all of my belongings every time I had a "date" just in case I needed to make a run for it. I never knew when they were going to turn up. In the back of the last drawer I came across my old ballet gear. There were three leotards. One navy blue, one white, one black. With the leotards was a gorgeous floral dance skirt, Bloch split sole ballet flats, and Russian Pointe pointe shoes. I stroked the pale pink satin of the pointe shoes, remembering a time when I danced twenty hours a week, before throwing them and the rest of the gear into a suitcase. I didn't know why she kept all of it. I would probably never dance again, but I couldn't let that part of my life go. Not yet. Ballet was something that connected me to my mother.

I admired my quick handiwork. My ability to pack all my possessions in three suitcases in under twenty minutes was something that brough me pride. I strapped my holster to my thigh and slid my pistol into its place. My gun was another thing I never went on a "date" without. Even if they didn't turn up, there were still plenty of other dangers to being a young woman with a drunk, middle aged escort. I left my room, and was greeted with the least welcome and most hated person I ever knew. I should have known he was there by Duke's growl. Ty stood before me, and before I even thought about what consequences, I shouted, "Out!"

He looked me over lazily, and despite my long dress, I suddenly felt very naked. I crossed my arms over my chest in an attempt to try and feel more shielded from his gaze. Duke, ever the watchful guardian, became even more protective, moving directly in front of me, hunched over as if ready to lunge at Ty at any given moment. Ty sighed and pulled out his pistol. It had to be the largest caliber pistol I had ever seen. He pointed it at me, saying, "Are you sure you want to play that game, doll?"

Mary had bolted out of her room on the other side of the apartment and slowly crept towards us. Terror flooded into her eyes as she approached us. "Let's be calm about this," she pleaded. She looked at Ty and asked in her most soothing voice, "Baby, please put the gun down. There's no need to be violent here."

Her statement was made less convincing, though, by the fact that, as she said it, I pulled out my own gun and aimed it straight at his chest. Some people always aim for the head, but I aim for the chest because if it's high, it's still a kill, and if it's low the victim is still gonna hurt. Mary turned to face me.

"Sarah," she begged, "please, let's just calmly talk this over. If we can all just control out tempers, I'm sure we could come to some sort of agreement as to how to handle this situation."

I paid her no mind. All of my focus was on the dangerous, blundering, oaf next to her. I growled at him, "I said out. Now."

"Sarah-" Mary began again, but before she could finish the thought, Ty had his arms around her, holding her to his chest. "So now, Sarah," Ty crooned, "do you trust your aim enough to hit me straight in the head?"

I looked at Mary's terrified eyes. They were begging me to save her. Reluctantly, I lowered my gun, but refused to holster it. Before anyone could say anything else, there was a knock on the door as it opened. My "date" for the evening called, "Hello!" The smile on his face vanished as he took in the situation.

"Sarah," Mary gasped, "please just go."

I nodded and made my way over to the door. Ty made the mistake of turning his back on me. I saw my opportunity and I took it. I ran up behind him, and with a cry, I brought the butt of my gun against his thick skull. The blow had enough force behind it to bring the oaf to his knees, unconscious. Mary hastily backed away until she was up against the sofa. She nodded at me. That seemed to be all she was able to do. Part of me hated to leave her. What would Ty do to her when he woke up? I knewI had to, though, so I holstered my gun and walked out the front door and heard it close behind me.

My "date" Brian and I were driving to down town Atlanta for some charity gala he had been invited to. For the most part, we drove in silence. He seemed to be in shock, which was odd because he had come in at the end of things and hadn't even been in any real danger. Brian was in his early forties, but didn't look it. He looked like he was just pushing thirty and had a mess of pale gold hair that never seemed to be just as neat as he would like it to be. He had strange dark blue eyes. They were like the color of the sky after the sun has set but before the stars come out. His jaw was square like his shoulders. He was tall enough and, I guessed, somewhat muscular. I had never seen him bare chested. He was just another customer.

That wasn't quite true though. I was actually somewhat fond of Brian. He was classy and important, but still had a sense of humor. He was a well known philanthropist, which was probably why he had been invited to the gala. Charities were always looking to get money from people like him. He was on the board that made important decisions for Coca-Cola. I may have even dated him for real if he wasn't twice my age. He'd asked me to enough times.

"So," he said, trying to break the silence. "I guess remind me not to get on your bad side." He looked over at me, smiling at the reference to the earlier events of this evening. Despite my lack of response, he cleared his throat and continued talking. "The gala is starting rather late so there isn't going to be any meal, unfortunately. That's always the highlight of the night, for me anyways. The dancing is nice enough though, isn't it? I seem to remember you saying something about liking dancing, is that right?"

I tore my gaze away from the window to look at him. "Yes. I used to train to be a professional ballet dancer," I responded.

"Why aren't you then?" Brian asked, honestly curious. I just gave him a look to silence him. He cleared his throat again - it seemed to be a nervous habit of his - and continued, "I've never been much of a dancer myself. You've surely noticed I have no rhythm whatsoever." He spared me a glance and a smile before turning his eyes back to the road. I remained silent. He kept talking, trying to draw me into conversation I didn't want. "I was thinking, since there's not going to be food - I mean there will be plenty of hors d'oeuvres - but there won't be any proper meal, so do you want to get dinner afterwords? Not with me as a client or anything but, ya know, as friends. We are friends aren't we?"

I adjusted my body so I was completely facing him. I sighed, "Brian, even if we are friends, and I'm not sure if we are, I don't think it would be a good idea for us to have dinner. You saw the situation that we left. I think I need to get home as soon as possible." I quickly added, "I'm sorry" upon seeing his disappointed face, even though I really wasn't in the least. "

I understand," he huffed. "Anyway here we are." The gala was being held in the Georgia Aquarium's Oceans Ballroom. He helped me out of the car and gave the car over to the valet.

There was a long ceremony that was dreadfully boring and hard to sit through for someone as fidgety as me. Brian won an award after donating an amount that was worth more than all of my possessions doubled. After the tables were cleared away, nothing was left save an open bar, several benches, and a large dance floor. Brian and I headed over to one of the viewing windows where you could look in and see the beluga whales. "I almost forgot," Brian claimed after admiring the whales for some time. He pulled a wad of cash out of his jacket and unfurled some bills. "I'm assuming you still expect the same down payment of one hundred dollars so here's that and might as well give you your twenty dollars for that first hour."

I took the money and put it into my clutch which I almost dropped upon hearing a voice greeting Brian. I looked up and saw that the greeter was the last man I possibly expected to see. The man from the restaurant stood before me. I hadn't realized how tall he was back in the restaurant. He had abandoned the glasses and was now in a dapper tuxedo to match Brian's. His fiery hair was now impeccably slicked back. "Sarah," Brian said, "I'd like to introduce you to Jared Jones, the newest member on the board. Jared this is my girlfriend, Sarah."

Jared grabbed my hand and kissed my knuckles, his mismatched eyes never leaving my own. He turned to Brian and asked, "Would you mind too terribly if I stole your date for a dance?"

Brian shook his head, allowing Jared to sweep me onto the dance floor for the next waltz which was just beginning. He put one hand on my waist and grasped my hand with the other, while I put my spare hand on his shoulder, he kept a respectable distance from me without seeming overly formal. "So I'm assuming you're not Mr. Brian's actual girlfriend, all things in consideration."

Slightly offended, I asked, "Things such as what? I'm not a prostitute."

"No," he responded,"I never believed that you were. I do, however, believe that you are a waitress from the diner I visited earlier today. High class people such as Brian don't normally associate with waitresses and other _lower_ class people unless they need to."

I would have been offended if his words weren't so true. I knew them well enough. I looked into his strange, unplacably familiar eyes and mused, "We met before that though, didn't we." A sly grin spread across his face as I continued, "I know your eyes."

"Of course you do. And I know yours. They can be so cruel."

And then everything fell in place. Everything made sense. I whispered, barely audible, "Jareth."

His smile grew so large I was almost certain that it would split his face in two. "Clever, clever girl," he remarked.

"Not a very creative pseudonym," I commented. "And what happened to all the glitter and the hair? I liked the hair."

"Well I couldn't very well parade around in tights and a blouse up here in the aboveground. It would have drawn too much attention. My fashion sense and hair both would have hurt the image I wanted to create. Poised and sophisticated. As for the name, I didn't really need to be creative. It worked and is a perfectly acceptable aboveground name."

"Why are you here? I haven't seen so much as a speck of glitter from you for five years. Why randomly show up now?"

"Oh you precious thing, do your questions ever cease? I never stopped watching you at all. I couldn't if I wanted to. And as to my sudden reappearance, it's not really random at all, is it?"

I stared into his captivating eyes skeptically. "What do you mean?"

He drew me so close that almost every inch of our bodies was touching. He leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Look around you, Sarah. Tell me what you see."

"I don't trust you." I whispered back.

He straightened his back and stepped back from me a little as he said, "No, I would be concerned if you did. I'm the bad man who stole your baby brother. That's all you know me as. If you trusted someone you only knew as a kidnapper, you would have some serious people problems, but what harm can knowing your surroundings do?"

"A kidnapper with questionable fashion sense," I replied, but I did as he said and looked around me. All I saw was the ballroom. People were standing at the bar, or sitting on the benches, or on the dance floor with us. Brian was standing at the edge of the dance floor, staring at us. "It's all normal," I told him.

"Look again. Look specifically at the people around us. Look hard."

I did, and at first they all still looked normal, but then I saw it. Almost every man on the dance floor was staring directly at me. All their eyes were bottomless and hollow and lifelessly black. The space around them was waving, like heat rising off pavement in the summer. My heart stopped. Evidently I stopped dancing, because I tripped Jareth up. I dropped my hands and stared at him.

"You see it now, don't you," he whispered.

"They're here."

**A/N: So that's it! Please leave reviews. Last I checked there was only one, so thank you Honoria Granger for that. As previously stated I'm open to any constructive criticism. I just want to know what everybody is thinking!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you, everybody who has left reviews! Please keep them coming! Some people have noted the vagueness and I assure you that is intentional. All will be revealed in time :)**

Time seemed to stop as I made the realization. They had found me. I stared deep into Jareth's eyes, halfway hoping that they would give some hint as to what I was supposed to do. Even though I had prepared for the moment they would catch me off guard and get this close to me, the moment it had actually happened took my breath away.

My mind snapped back to reality. I quickly walked over to where Brian stood at the edge of the dance floor. I had to fight the urge to break into a flat out sprint. I couldn't let them know I had become aware of their presence. Then they might go ahead and make their move while they still had the time.

I caught Brian off guard by suddenly kissing him. His shock gave me the opportunity to reach into his back pocket and grab the valet ticket. When I drew back. His navy blue eyes were wide with shock and brimming with desire. "Get me a drink?" I asked in my sweetest, fakest voice. I flashed him a sugary and equally fake smile. He just nodded and hurried over to the hoarde of people gathered around the bar. Apparently I wasn't the only one who required a little liquid assistance to get through such dull events.

While Brian was occupied, I slowly made my way over to the large double doors. While nobody was looking, I slipped out of them. Now I was sprinting. My hair was falling out of the intricate chignon, but if didn't even notice. All I could focus on was putting as much distance between me and them as possible.

I approached the valet who was sitting alone on a bench lighting up a cigarette. He hastily hid the offending little stick behind his back as he asked, "Can I help you ma'am?"

I just held out the ticket, too out of breath from my long sprint to say anything.

"Do you need a water or something ma'am? You don't look very good."

I shook the ticket impatiently and panted, "I need... I need my car."

He nodded,took the ticket, and set out for the parking garage at a jog. I took his spot on the bench and put my head between my knees. I had never been much of a runner. The only time I ever ran was when I felt threatened. I let out a little cough and tried to take a deep breath. This was interrupted by a hand patting my back. I jumped out of my seat and hurried away as fast as I could, all tiredness from the run forgotten. I looked back at the bench, and there sat Jareth. His hair was still perfect as he sat with his right foot on his left knee and his arms draped over the back of the bench.

"What are you doing here," I spit out in shock.

He cocked an eyebrow and responded, "Darling, you asked me the same question not ten minutes ago. Have you really already forgotten my answer?"

"That's not what I mean," I clarified. "I mean, why are you on that bench, staring at me? Why did you follow me?"

"We never can have a normal conversation. It's always an interrogation talking to you," he whined; nevertheless he answered my question. "Well naturally, when someone flees, terrified, from a party, one becomes concerned. I merely wanted to make sure you were alright. Unfortunately, you left me the task of informing your date of your departure. He didn't take it very well."

"Then why isn't he here?"

"He's heartbroken. His true love tricked and abandoned him. Give the poor man time to recover," he said sarcastically with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes and commented, "She must not be his true love if she tricked and abandoned him."

"Perhaps," Jareth muttered, leaving his perch and approaching me. He came close enough that we were almost touching. Surely he could feel me panting. I still couldn't catch my breath. _Shouldn't I have recovered by now?_ I wondered.

My thoughts were interrupted by the valet's return with the car. Jareth promptly moved back to a respectable distance as the valet hopped out of the car and made his way over to the sidewalk. The valet's eyes flickered between Jareth and I as he said, "Well, there we are. Here's your car ma'am."

I snatched the keys from his hand and sped away in Brian's car before Jareth could even attempt to get in the passenger seat. That didn't stop him, though. I had driven ten minutes outside of the city when I noticed him sitting lazily shotgun. "Seriously?!" I screeched upon seeing him.

"Always such endearing greetings from you. Took you long enough to even acknowledge my presence," he retorted sarcastically.

"You want a polite greeting? Well it's not too polite to randomly pop in to peoples lives - or cars. How did you even get in here anyways?"

He pinched his fingers together then flexed them in a "poof" gesture.

_Magic_, I thought scathingly. I had forgotten his unfair advantage.

"And on the topic of politeness," Jareth said, "stealing people's cars would most certainly fall into the category of 'impolite.'"

"A nessecary lapse in etiquette. I'm sure Brian would understand if he knew the circumstances," I insisted.

"Brian," Jareth mused. "That man really is - how do you say - head over heels? In love? Hopeless?"

"Unfortunately," I muttered, hoping the topic would pass quickly.

"You really should be nicer to him," he continued. "He's a good enough man even if he is slightly pitiful. Ditching someone at an important, high class event certainly doesn't qualify as polite either."

"Ok so I'm impolite. I think we've established this. Better impolite than dead. I mean- wouldn't anybody run away, no matter what the cost, if someone was after their life?"

"No," he mused, half to himself. This wasn't an answer to my question. "I don't think it's your life they're after at all."

When I asked what he meant, he merely flicked his hand as if he could bat away my question like a fly. He remained silent and thoughtful until I pulled into the parking spot in front of Mary's and my apartment.

"Stay here," I commanded. "I don't need you panicking my roommate. She's had scare enough today without some random man barging into our home."

He didn't respond other than batting his hand again. I shrugged and hurried up the stairs. The lack of police cars showed that Mary had been too stupid or too shocked to call them. I unlocked the door and opened it slowly, cautiously. I stepped inside and flicked on the light. The living area was the same as I had left it, only Mary and the oaf were nowhere to be seen. I thought I was in the clear until I felt a blow on the back of my skull.

My vision blurred and I felt myself fall to the floor. I fought to stay conscious as I rolled over and saw a hulking figure standing above me. Ty. I fumbled to try and get my gun but he was surprisingly quick enough to grab it out of my holster before me and discarded it out the door, far beyond my reach.

He held my hands above my head and kneeled with one knee digging into my sternum. I gasped for air as he amusedly stroked my face, knowing I could do nothing to stop him. I kicked vigorously in an attempt to stop him, but he just put more pressure on the knee on my chest. "Whatcha gonna do, doll?" He crooned.

His hand now held my chin, so I bit it hard enough to taste blood. He howled and struck me across my face. His anger soon dissipated, though, as he moved his bloody hand to my leg. With it he hitched up my skirts until my dress was waded up just behind his knee on my chest.

"Where's Mary?" I wheezed. He dug his knee in even harder and replied, "I don't know do I? Little tramp up and left before I came to."

So at least Mary was safe. I allowed myself to feel a little relief at that. He leaned in close enough that I could smell his foul breath as he said, "But you don't even wanna know what I'm gonna do to you."

His meaty hand grabbed my thigh hard enough for me to scream in pain. I spat in his face, and he raised his hand to strike me again. Before he could, however, he was yanked off of me with surprising force by none other than the man I instructed to stay in the car. Thank God he had a blatant disregard for all commands other than the ones he issued.

Jareth held out the arm he had yanked Ty up with and kicked with shocking speed and strength. I heard the bone snap with a sickening crunch. There was something animalistic about the way Jareth fought. Ty brought his arm around to trap the smaller man, but Jareth stopped this by viciously scratching at Ty's face. Ty fell to his knees, holding his profusely bleeding face. Jareth summoned a large crystal staff and struck Ty on his head with it hard enough that the staff should have broken for the final blow. Ty fell to the side, now bleeding out of his ear as well.

Jareth bared his teeth and hissed at him. He came over to me and offered me a hand to help me up. When I stood, vertigo consumed me and Jareth held me close to him until I regained my balance. He smelled clean and like summer mornings after a rainstorm. His scent was so captivating that I almost didn't want to pull away from him. He wiped Ty's blood from my mouth and told me, "Fetch your things."

I nodded and unsteadily made my way over to my bedroom. Duke had been forced into an improvised muzzle made of rope and tied to my bed. He stood up and wagged his tail as he saw me. I untied his restraints and hugged him, taking comfort in his familiar warmth and smell. I broke down into silent tears while holding him. Duke just sat there, thumping his tail and letting me hug him. I released him and stroked behind his ears. Wiping away my tears, I grabbed my bags and made my way back into the living area with Duke not far behind.

Jareth was examining Ty, specifically his tattoos.

"Is he dead?" I asked somewhat hopefully.

"No," he replied, looking up at me. As he saw Duke, he scrambled back against the wall and hissed at him, the same strange way he did Ty. "That is not coming with us," he insisted.

"He's coming, whether it be with me or with us. You decide." With that I walked out the door and made my way down to the parking lot. I decided to ditch the stolen car in favor of my own silver Honda civic, the least conspicuous car known to man. I put my suitcases in the trunk and slammed it, seeing a rather pouty Jareth standing in front of my car.

"Glad to see you could join us," I commented rather smugly.

He muttered something inaudible and sat in the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him. I opened the backseat door for Duke who promptly began growling at Jareth. I rolled my eyes and forced him in. I took my seat in the driver's seat and started the car, which probably wasn't the best idea, considering that I was still dangerously woozy.

An hour into the road trip, Duke was still adamant about his growling at Jareth. "The bloody mutt won't shut up!" Jareth finally shouted out of exasperation. "It's probably this God awful song," he insisted, reaching to turn it off.

"China Girl" by David Bowie was sounding through the speakers, and even though it wasn't my favorite Bowie song, I knocked his hand aside. "My car, I'm driving, I choose the music."

Jareth just scowled out the window. Eventually he summoned a crystal which he turned into a large rawhide bone. The treat was enough to silence Duke, but he still eyed Jareth warily.

"Is that your solution to everything? Bribery?" I scoffed. "If a dog doesn't like you? Bribe him. If a teenage girl wants to leave your goddamn labyrinth? Try to bribe her."

He rolled his eyes but muttered, "It works, doesn't it?"

"Not for me," I insisted.

"Then why do you still put up with me?" I didn't respond, so he just turned to the window again, assuming he was right.

After ten or so more minutes, I said, "Because you saved me twice. I put up with me because if I do, it seems like I'll have you to save me."

He turned to me and simply said, "Bribery."

I rolled my eyes, which was a bad idea. It made the dizziness overcome me and I collapsed against Jareth, letting go of the steering wheel. He made haste to grab it and guide the car into the nearest parking lot. He tapped my face saying, "Hey, Sarah, you ok? You almost killed us."

I couldn't focus on on his words, only his eyes. They were my anchor, something to focus on to keep from passing out. "Ok, precious. I suppose here is as good a place as any to stop for the night."

He scooped me up easily, placing my arm around his neck. Apparently he had driven into the parking lot of some motel. He carried me inside and set me down so I could lean against the counter while he got us a room. He had me stand up and place my arm around his neck again as he guided me to our room which was, thankfully, nearby.

Inside were two full sized beds, a tv, and a kitchenette. He picked me up for the last few yards and set me on the nearest bed. "You just stay here and try not to die. You seem to be having a hard time with that tonight," he said.

With that he left to retrieve the luggage and, hopefully, dog. I wasn't to sure about the latter considering his contempt for Duke. I just laid on the bed, still in my evening gown, trying to forget the events of the day. All I wanted was to sleep soundly for once, so I imagined I was back in my childhood bedroom. I could almost feel my favorite flannel pajamas with owls on them. I only vaguely heard Jareth return. I was exhausted and just let sleep take me.

**A/N: Please leave a review! I'll update soon as possible and reveal some about Sarah and the people chasing her**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: thank you to everybody who has fav/followed and especially reviewed! As always I am addicted to reviews and open to any, including criticism. About the typos and grammar errors, just know I am extraordinarily sorry! I have gone back and fixed the ones I saw, but I very easily could have missed some. If there are some that just drive you insane (I have some grammar pet peeves so I completely understand) just point them out and I will fix them. There is a little bit of harsher swearing in this chapter (not much, only one f-bomb) so I'm sorry if that offends anybody. It's not meant just be be vulgar but to show anger and frustration.**

I awoke some time shortly after the sun had risen. My mouth was horribly dry and my entire body ached from yesterday's events. I still wore my dress from last night, but my shoes had been taken off and placed beside the bed.

Jareth sat on edge of the other bed, facing away from me. He had abandoned his tuxedo shirt but still wore his slacks. The pale sun shining through the window haloed his head of fiery hair in golden light. He looked even paler in the morning light as I took in his lean back muscles and disheveled hair. He stretched out his arms like a bird about to take flight from its perch. Next to me, on the ground, Duke soundly slept. I smiled upon seeing him. He was my rock in a frantic world. Always there, unwavering, no matter the circumstances.

I stood and stretched my stiff muscles before making my way over to the small, dingy bathroom. The bathroom smelled strongly enough of bleach to make my eyes water and nose burn, but I was too desperate to wash away the events of yesterday to even care. My hair was knotted in an unmanageable mess on top of my head and my eyes bloodshot and puffy from the poor night's sleep. A large purple bruise was forming on my face where Ty had hit me yesterday. I stripped out of the evening gown and left it bunched up on the floor as I started the water for a shower.

I heard Duke growling. The door had cracked open, and I met Jareth's staring eyes in the mirror. He cocked an eyebrow and quickly turned his gaze away. I smiled slightly, either because of Duke's protective guardianship, or Jareth. I closed the door, locking it for good measure, took off my necklaces, and stepped into the steaming shower.

The water seemed to purify me and cleanse me of Ty's decadent hands. Another large bruise was forming on my thigh where he had grabbed me. Tiny cuts showed where his nails had dug into the skin of my leg. I set to work on untangling my hair. It took an entire bottle of the cheap complementary conditioner to work through the mats. Clumps of hair fell out as I combed through my hair with my fingers. I let out a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I sat down and put my head on my knees.

I saw a woman laying on a hospital bed, hooked up to countless machines, and a towhead man bent over the foot of the bed. I heard the plinking of the IV dropping saline and the monitor beeping with her slowing heart beat. I heard the respirator pumping, breathing, because she couldn't for herself, and I heard a man sobbing. I smelled the hospital, a mix of hardly edible food and something like formaldehyde. I smelled something refreshingly clean and something like summer mornings after a rainstorm. I felt his staring eyes on me as I drew near. I felt the woman's soft skin as I grabbed her bony hand. She had long, musician's fingers.

I raised my eyes to meet the man's. He had icy blue eyes, with one pupil dilated enough to almost consume the entire iris, like the eyes of a barn owl. Through his eyes, I could see worlds. I saw a labyrinth spread out in a desolate land with a castle off in the distance. I saw the world soaring below me as if I were flying. I saw the woman, young and healthy and beautiful. She had green eyes and thick, dark hair to match my own. I heard footsteps approaching.

I heard my father asking, in a voice hoarse from crying, why I was in the hospital room with the woman by myself. I was too captivated by those eyes to reply. I saw the strange man turn away and walk out into the hallway. I followed and watched him as he walked the long hallway and threw open the double doors at the end. The brightness of the sunlight blinded me, but when I regained my vision, I saw an owl flying away from the spot where he had stood.

My attention came back to modern day with a jolt. I shut off the water and hurriedly jumped out of the shower. I wrapped a towel around myself and burst out of the bathroom, tripping over Duke. Jareth, still shirtless, sat on the edge of his bed once more, looking out the window.

"You knew her, didn't you?" He turned around as I finished, "You knew my mother."

He sighed, and after a long pause, nodded solemnly.

I walked over and sat down on the bed next to him, ignoring the fact that I was still wet and would soak through the thin blanket. I stared at him while he still gazed out the window and I whispered, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I figured you would remember on your own eventually," he murmured, still not looking at me. I turned my gaze out the window as well. It wasn't much of a sight. Just an empty lot with some trees off in the distance. After a few moments of silence, he turned to look at me and asked, "How much do you remember of her?"

"Not much," I sighed. "She died when I was pretty young."

"You were seven. You should still have some memory."

"Well I know she was a ballerina, like my grandmother. I know her name was Giselle, like the ballet. I know she must have been somewhat creative because she co-wrote my favorite play, Labyrinth."

"Those aren't memories. Anybody could have told you that. I mean memories of you and her doing something - spending time together."

I turned my gaze to meet his and groaned, "I don't know. I mean, sometimes I get flashes, but those may not even be real. Why are you even asking me? You clearly knew her better than I did."

"I think I know why," Jareth murmured to himself before asking in a clearer voice, "Do you want to know about your mother?"

I had to think about this for a moment. I had worked relentlessly since her death to accept the fact that she was gone and to convince myself that I didn't need her. Learning about her could reopen those old wounds. Despite this, I nodded.

"I met her when she was very young, maybe about twelve," he began. "She had somehow managed to wander into my labyrinth. Originally I treated her about the same way as I treated you if not worse. She was brilliant though, and managed to make it to the castle. She had no idea how she had gotten to the labyrinth, and all she wanted to do was go back home, so I let her.

"I could never really let her go though. I was too captivated by her. Even when she was begging me to take her home, there was something about her that demanded respect. Most of the time, humans lose their wits around me. They either worship or try to destroy me. She was different, though. She was just calm and rational, but still the kind of person who lit up a room when she walked in.

"Because of this, I kept visiting her even after she had gone home - sometimes as an owl, sometimes as myself. She was much nicer than you, so she was ok with it. We quickly became friends. Her kindness rubbed off on me. The more time I spent around her, the better person I became. Before I knew her, I treated everybody cruelly. I didn't want to be goblin king, so I was spoiled and selfish. She made me grow up, even though she was so young. She made me more responsible and taught me empathy.

"As expected, and as you know, she grew up, too, and married your father. She was so happy at first. They were the ideal couple. Always together, always smiling. Then they had a baby girl whom you may be familiar with, and she became even happier. You were her everything. She loved you more than life itself.

"But then she became sick. I didn't know what was wrong with her at the time, but we both knew she didn't have too long left - five years at most. I think I was more devastated than she was. She was so strong, and happy enough with her life to die without any regrets - well almost. Her only regret was that she wouldn't be there for you.

"You were only two or three when she became sick, so she knew she would never see you grow up, and never be there to protect you. Because of this, she made me promise to be there for you. She told me her death would devastate your father, and that he may not have been able to support you the way he needed to. I agreed, but at the time I didn't know the true reason why she was so adamant about me protecting you.

"After she died, I found a letter she had left for me. A letter that talked about men with black eyes who followed her everywhere. Sound familiar? She was worried that they would hurt you.

"The first few years after her death, I was the worst guardian imaginable, and I'm sorry for that. I had lost the only person I'd ever loved. The person who taught me to love. I hated myself. I felt like a failure because I couldn't save her. It would be like you watching young Toby die in the most terrible way imaginable. She was like my little sister and I couldn't save her. You're starting to fall ill too, aren't you?"

The pain in his eyes was almost unbearable to look at. I couldn't respond to his question at first. I had begun to cry and my throat was tight with the sobs I had held back. I couldn't open my mouth because I knew they would come out, and I didn't want Jareth to see me at my weakest. I wanted to be strong like my mother.

I nodded eventually and tried to wipe away all of my tears. The old wounds had definitely opened. Jareth held me to his chest. I took in his scent and focused on his heartbeat. His heartbeats came in three like the sound of a galloping horse. I started shaking with sobs I couldn't suppress any longer. What a sight we must have been. A bare chested fae with fiery hair holding a crying, soaking wet girl, who wore naught but a towel, to his bare chest.

After regaining my composure, I asked "Who are they, Jareth? What do they want with me?"

"You and your mother are exceptional people," he sighed. "You've inherited her ability to see and channel magic. The problem with that, is that you're still human. Your body can't cope with the magic, so the magic destroys you. Being exposed to the labyrinth is like being exposed to an area after a nuclear meltdown. Magic is like the radiation. It seeps into you and makes you ill. I think - I'm not sure, but I think - that the people chasing you, and that did chase your mother, can tell when you become sick. They know you have magic and they want it. They're hungry for it. They will stop at nothing to harvest it. The man who attacked you last night worked for them."

"Ty is one of them?"

"No, I didn't say that. Listen. He works for them. He's just some stupid human who wants to live forever. He had a tattoo of an ouroboros and an ankh. Those are symbols for immortality. He was probably promised it if he helped them."

I nodded, finally understanding, "So what do we do?" I asked.

"You've repressed most all your memories of magic. It's your body's coping mechanism. What we need to do is fetch those memories. The answer is somewhere in them. For now, though, I'm going to shower and you need to put something on other than that towel."

I watched him as he walked over to the bathroom and closed the door. When he did, I felt unexplainably alone. I needed my guardian angel - or owl - to keep me safe from the people who wanted to steal my magic, which I didn't even know how to use. I heard the shower turn on, I left my spot on his bed and walked over to the corner where he had placed my suitcases. I opened the nearest one and pulled out the first two articles of clothing I saw. An oversized burgundy sweater and black leggings.

After changing, I dared to look at my phone. Eleven missed calls from Mary, and fourteen from Brian. I really didn't deserve Brian. I wasn't a good person. I would hurt him to save myself, even though I knew he didn't deserve it. I was out for myself. I played his first message.

"Sarah, your friend is looking for you at the gala. I know you left. Where are you? She's panicking now. Definitely panicking." I heard uneven sobs in the background. "She's crying and saying something about strange men coming to your apartment after you left. They were looking for you. Does that mean anything to you? Where are you?"

All his other messages just begged me to return his calls. In a later one he mentioned wanting his car back. I later listened to Mary's voicemails which confirmed Brian's messages. I set my phone down next to me and put my face in my hands. What was I going to do? Now they knew of Mary and Brian and could use them to hurt me. _It's not fair_, I mentally whined. I had matured greatly since my time in the labyrinth, but when something is overwhelmingly unfair, I still had trouble accepting it.

As I heard the water from the shower shut off, I picked up my phone and called Mary. She answered on the first ring and greeted me with, "Where the _fuck_ have you been?!"

I knew I had done something overwhelmingly wrong. Mary hated profanity in even the smallest amounts, and only major offenses could push her to utter even the mildest swear word for herself. "Mary I-" I began before being abruptly cut off.

"I thought you were _dead_ in a _ditch_! You couldn't even be bothered to call me to let me know you were alright?! I sent you away so that you could be safe but you just run off and do whatever you want! And what is it with these creepy, monstrous, _freaks_ looking for you every-"

Now I cut her of. "Mary don't go back to the apartment. You didn't did you?"

"Of course not," she said in a much calmer, and much quieter, tone of voice. Screaming seemed to have lessened her anger at me. "I'm not an idiot. I wasn't going to go back home with Ty and other creepy guys there."

"Did they hurt you?"

"No but-"

The phone was yanked from my grasp by Jareth. He looked at the caller ID before putting it to his ear and saying, "Hello Mary, darling, how are you?"

After a brief pause he continued, "This is the creepy guy from the diner yesterday. Yes, I heard you say that. Sarah is right here with me."

I heard Mary's voice emanating from the phone. She was clearly shouting again.

Jareth said in a bored voice, "No I did not kidnap her. That would be dull and unoriginal. Rather, you may consider me her 'knight in shining armor,' which is equally unoriginal but much more exciting. I saved her from the perilous hands of a vicious being in your kitchen. He goes by the title of 'Ty' according to dear Sarah."

He walked away so I could no longer make out his words - only indistinguishable murmurs. After several minutes he hung up and walked back over to me.

"Your friend is far feistier than I expected her to be," he commented. "She's with Brian at his house. I told them to come here. We hunted ones might as well all be together. Splitting up never seems to end well. The whole idea of it is stupid. I mean only an imbecile would think 'Hey, let's spread our numbers thin so that the bad guys will have an easier time picking us off.'"

I rolled my eyes. He sat down next to me and looked at me, all traces of humor gone from his eyes. The orange dye had washed out from his hair so that it was once again platinum blonde, but still short. Now he was the one clad in only a towel, but he somehow managed to look gorgeous in it. I supposed it took a certain level of model-like perfection to regularly wear leggings and glittery blouses. The sparkling drops of water fell from his hair like tears - or diamonds. He lifted one hand and tugged one of my damp curls. It immediately fell out.

He sighed and motioned for me to move and sit on the floor. I did so and he moved so that my head was between his knees, which was awkward given that he still wore only a towel. Duke groweled as soon as Jareth moved to touch my hair again. Jareth let out his own snarl, malicious enough to make me want to get away from him. He stopped as soon as I tried, though, and Duke came over to lay his head in my lap. I stroked his large head to calm him as Jareth set to work on my hair.

Jareth handled the delicate strands carefully to avoid pulling any others out. In fact, I felt so little tugging that I doubt I would have known he was working on my hair if I didn't occasionally feel his fingers gently brush my scalp. After a few minutes, he began to sing. It was a soft cascading melody that penetrated he deep emotions inside of me that I had tried to suppress for so long. I felt a painstaking loss and unexplainable joy at the song's beauty. It was almost like listening to a lullaby, the way it soothed me. The sound of his voice filled every part of me with its ethereal, inhuman quality. His one voice sounded like a hushed choir, able to sing multiple notes and rhythms at once. When Jareth finished his work he stopped singing and tapped my shoulder, signaling that I could get up. I stayed sitting and whispered, "Don't stop. I like it when you sing."

He disappeared into the bathroom and put on his discarded pants before going over to the bed he had slept on and put on the crumpled white t-shirt he had worn underneath his tuxedo shirt. "I forgot that I could sing," he confessed. "Or I suppose a more correct statement would be that I forgot I was good at it."

He resumed singing the lullaby and came to sit by me. I hadn't left my spot on the floor. The song seemed to have a sedative property, even on Duke, who thumped his tail as Jareth sat, but otherwise stayed completely still as I continued petting him.

I looked over at Jareth and took in his rumpled clothes from last night. "We need to get you some new clothes," I commented. "Proper aboveground clothes with no sparkes, and _proper_ pants that don't show everything you have to offer."

He laughed and then pulled my own leggings so that they snapped back against my skin. "You, my precious flower, are a hypocrite."

"Leggings are perfectly acceptable under the condition that your ovaries are _inverted_, ok? This is _girls_' fashion."

He continued laughing and said, "If it's _girls_' fashion, then it's inappropriate for you, too. You are a _woman_ now and must learn to accept it."

I rolled my eyes and stood up, grabbing my toiletries bag and headed towards the bathroom. I pulled out my little handheld mirror and held it up so that I could see what Jareth had done to my hair. When I saw it I let out a little groan. It was gorgeous. Why could a man do more with hair than I could and pull off sparkly pirate clothes? A loose, intricate braid curved in an "s" around the back of my head and finished with a bun in the shape of a flower. That explained why he called me flower. I pulled out my toothbrush and began angrily brushing my teeth. _Damn talented fairy,_ I thought.

I exited the bathroom and saw Jareth sitting exactly where I had left him, only Duke had gotten up and growled a him from a safe distance because he had stopped singing. Jareth asked, "Are you ready to begin then?"

"Begin what?"

A mischievous smile grew on his face. "Your first magic lesson."

**A/N: Please review and let me know what you think! The idea for Jareth braiding Sarah's hair came from Ellen Weaver's Exile from the Labyrinth: the Lament Configuration (I highly recommend it if you haven't read it already. It is a phenomenal story).**

**Lylabeth1: I received all of your reviews, just somewhat belatedly, and they were wonderfully helpful, so i hope I can tempt you to leave another one. I do not know where the belugas have been sent back too, but they are missed. About Sarah being out of breath even though I have her as a dancer, I myself have been dancing for twelve years and I am horrible at running. From my experience, some people are just naturally bad at it, regardless of how fit they are. That observation could be wrong, of course, and I'm very sorry if I offended you with it in any way.**


	5. Chapter 5

***Update* I went back and changed some spelling/grammar errors. If you see any more please let me know.**

**A/N: Sorry this took so long for me to upload and it's pretty short compared to the other chapters, but hopefully you like it! More will come soon (hopefully. Please leave a review to let me know if you do or even if you don't. I'm open to criticism**

I gaped at him for a moment before bursting out, "My what?"

He rolled his eyes and said, "You have all of this untapped magic bursting out of you. You need to learn to control it."

"And if I don't?"

"Simple, you die."

I opened my mouth to say something, but at a loss for any witty retort I quickly closed it and nodded, making my way to sit next to him. "So where do we begin?"

He raised his hands and put both of his middle and index fingers to my temples, saying "In here."

I just cocked an eyebrow.

He pulled his hands away, continuing, "You've been exposed to magic throughout your life, but you've repressed all memories of it. We need to access those memories so we can know what the magic is and how to control it."

I nodded and said, " The labyrinth had some magic."

"_Really," _he commented, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I feel positively _enlightened."_

I shrugged.

Jareth stood up and guided me over to the bed he had been leaning against so I could lay down. He placed a hand on my forehead and whispered, "Close your eyes."

His own eyes were shut as he began to hum the lullaby again. I closed my eyes as instructed and just listened to the melody. The rhythm seemed to cover me from head to toe, swaying back and forth in every part of me. I felt a pressure on my chest, but couldn't open my eyes to see what it was. The dark red of my eyelids slowly grew darker unit it was blacker than than the charred remains of wood after a fire.

Jareth's voice slowly faded into nonexistence as the darkness overcame me. All of my senses were cut off, leaving me isolated. No light reached my eyes. No soothing sound could reach my ears. I lost all sense of time. Was I laying down or standing up? I felt no floor underneath my feet and I began to fall. I tried to scream but could make no noise. Terror almost overcame me, but then there was something.

In the direction that I was falling (up? down? sideways?), a dim light briefly flickered. As I hurtled towards it, it began to flicker again, faster and more regularly until it was pulsing brighter and brighter. Next came the voices. No distinguishable words reached me, but they were definitely the voices of a woman and a young girl - hushed and almost panicked. When I was close enough to the light to touch it, I was able to make out a scene inside of it. It was a small grey bedroom with a queen sized bed that took up almost the entire area. It was my parents' bedroom that they had shared when I was young.

Passing through the light felt almost the same as accidentally poking through a piece of plastic wrap with the slow but weak resistance. The voices became crisp and clear as I burst into the scene. My mother was crouching before a younger, maybe four year old, version of me. Tears streamed down the young face as little me choked out, "Why are they here? What do they want Mama?"

My mother wrapped her arms around my little body and began to stroke my hair. Her eyes were wide with panic, but her voice was steady as she cooed, "Shhhh. I don't know, baby, but you have to be quiet." Her fingers tightened in my hair as we heard wood splintering - the front door.

Young me began to let out a wail but my mother forcefully put her hand over my mouth and shushed me. "You have to be quiet," she repeated in a more forceful tone.

I nodded. Just after that she picked me up and threw little me into the closet. She pressed her lips to my forehead and whispered, "I love you. No matter what happens, always remember that I love you. I would change the stars for you."

Modern me and little me both nodded. I felt a single tear run down my face but I wiped it away. My mother closed the closet door and went to stand before the bedroom door. There was no point in trying to hide from them. We could already hear them barreling up the stairs. A look of steely determination passed over her face as she clenched her fists and stared at the door. The sound of them stampeding through the house came to a sudden halt as they reached the other side of the door. There was no sound other than my mother's rugged breaths for a few moments until there was a sudden, loud, sniff from the other side of the door. This was followed by an animalistic cry as the door was forced in and turned into instant splintering shrapnel.

My mother tried to protect her face but wood lodged itself in several places along her forehead and cheeks. Still she let out no cry of pain. The force flung her off of her feet so that when they came in, they towered over her. They were different from the ones I had seen. They had the same hollow, lifeless eyes, but the air around them didn't just shimmer. It was as if light actually bent around them so that their sides blurred into invisibility. One of the five smiled and snarled, revealing a menacing set of needle fangs. He reached to grab my mother's hair, but her hands were glowing with magic, which she released into his face.

It was a blinding flash of light, and the man scrambled back, clutching his face. Smoke poured out of the gaps between his fingers as horrible blisters formed and popped, but instead of pus they released the ash of his charred skin. He began screaming as the ash blisters took over his entire body and he was reduced to nothing more than a pile of ash. The screaming continued, though, and I realized that It hadn't been him who was screaming. It was me.

I lost control of the scene. The scene paused and hair thin cracks covered everything so that it looked like broken glass. I heard Jareth's voice in my head asking what I was doing as the fragments of the frozen scene came apart. I couldn't stop screaming. I clenched my fingers in my hair and screamed louder as I was jerked back to modern day.

* * *

I bolted upright and grabbed my knees as the motel room came into focus. My breaths came in gasps and I felt hot tears pour out of my eyes and into my open mouth. I turned my attention to Jareth who had taken his hand off of my head and now sat at the foot of the bed with a look of disappointment and poorly disguised anger. He just sat and watched as I cried and tried to control my breathing.

After I regained control I asked, "What's wrong?"

"You had it," he spat.

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"You had it and then you lost it. At the most important part, you lost it."

"Did you learn anything from the memory-vision-thing?"

"Some of the magic your mother released could have seeped into you. That could be what's affecting you."

I nodded and expected him to say more, but he remained silent and just glared at me from the foot of the bed. "Why are you so mad at me about this?"

"Because saving you is becoming increasingly difficult and I would quit but I can't because I promised your mother that I would. I'm done with humans and humanity,"

he hissed.

His words stung, but I just said, "Liar. You care about me."

He rolled his eyes and stormed into the bathroom then slammed the door. "You can't pout in there forever," I called out.

"This washroom is my fort of solitude until further notice," he retorted.

Duke came over and laid his head in my lap. I stroked it and whispered, "At least you care about me. He does too. He's just a Mr. Pissy Pants."Duke wagged his tail and let out a sound that I took as agreement. He then growled as there was a knock on the door. I answered it to see Mary and Brian with an immeasurable amount of luggage. Mary flung herself at me and assaulted me with an embrace. I took comfort in the crook of her neck as we stood there - hugging. Eventually she let go and I saw Brian. He wasn't wearing the tux I was used to seeing him in, but instead an old concert t-shirt with well worn jeans and sneakers.

I ushered them inside and helped carry Mary's multiple bags. Brian greeted me with a cold handshake.

I took it and asked, "How are you? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," he quipped.

I nodded. Apparently I was in the company of two Pissy Pants. To fill the awkward silence I turned on the old television. It's only station was PBS, which was airing "Elmo's World." Elmo was trying to teach an insufferable man called "Mr. Noodle" how to wash his hands.

I muttered, "Right… So… Mary will you come with me?"

Nodding, she followed me over to the bathroom. I cracked the door and said, "Pouting time's up. It's time to converse with others and leave the fortress of sanctity."

"Solitude," he corrected but still left so Mary and I could enter.

As soon as I shut the door, Mary asked, "What is _wrong _with you? You can't just go to a motel with some strange man."

"He's not a stranger. His name is Jareth. He's an old… friend."

She sighed, "Ok, whatever. At least you're ok. So what's going on?"

"Evil men are chasing me because they want my magic," I stated bluntly. There really was no better way to state it.

Mary gaped at me for a moment before wondering, "Is that some sort of innuendo for, 'somebody is trying to rape me and I'm a virgin?'"

Just then we heard Brian shouting, "Damn it, Mr. Noodle!"

Which was followed by, "Your _hands,_ you imbecile, your _hands_!" from Jareth.

Mary continued, "If it is, then the person trying to rape you is obviously neither of them."

I laughed before stating, "Nope, not an innuendo."

"And you're completely sane and sober?"

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't admit it."

She nodded and after a pause said, "Ok, I trust you. What do we do?"

**A/N: Again, please leave a review. Reviews make me eager to write more! Seeing as this took me a while to upload, I feel obligated to leave my reasons (excuses). If you are curious, they are as follows:**

**-No wi-fi**

**-Studying for upcoming exams**

**-Dance and other activities**

**-In all honesty I just kind of got lazy over spring break**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you to everybody who has fav/followed and especially reviewed! **

Mary and I left the bathroom to find two disgruntled men sulkily staring at the television. Brian sat cross-legged in front of it while Jareth perched on the edge of a bed with his elbows on his knees and his chin on his fists.

Mary and I sat next to each other on the unoccupied bed and I asked, "So what's the plan?"

"You don't listen to my plans," Jareth retorted.

Brian chipped in, "You bailed on my last plan so I think I'll keep my mouth shut for this discussion."

I grabbed a pillow and struck both of them over the head with it, commanding, "Stop pouting."

They both fixed their gazes on me as I continued, "Brian, I'm sorry I left you at the gala. It couldn't be helped. Jareth, you know I couldn't help pulling out of the vision thing so stop punishing me for it."

They both continued silently staring at me for a moment until Brian finally grumbled, "Whatever."

Despite his surly tone, he seemed to have fully forgiven me for my abrupt departure the night before.

Jareth, however, just turned his gaze back to the television and muttered, "I abhor Mr. Noodle."

I huffed at his deflection of my apology, but then he turned and stuck his tongue out at me so I knew I was forgiven.

Before I could say anything else, Brian blurted out, "I need food. I'm starving."

"Me too. Let's get dinner," Mary concurred.

"Let's come up with a plan first -" I began.

"Food now," Jareth interjected.

"You don't even like human food," I mouthed to Jareth. He merely shrugged.

"Fine," I groaned. "Supper first, but then we need to come up with a plan."

Before I even finished my sentence, everybody but me had left their spot and headed over to the door.

* * *

Approximately twenty minutes later, we found ourselves seated in a booth at the nearby IHOP. The waitress came over and said the usual introduction of, "Hi, I'm Porca and I'll be your server today. What can I get y'all to drink?"

She took out her little pad of paper and pen then turned towards Jareth who said, "Well, my fine pig, I will have a glass of water."

I turned towards Jareth, mortified, with my eyes bulging out and my mouth slightly agape. Porca stared at Jareth and said, "Pardon, what did you call me?"

"A pig. A fine pig actually. I don't know why any parents would give their poor child such a horrible name."

My thoughts flashed back to my sophomore Latin class. Porca means pig in Latin. Despite his (somewhat) rightful accusation, I stabbed him in the leg with my fork. "He's joking," I squeaked at the poor waitress as Jareth made a face of pain with his mouth open in a silent scream. "I'll have a coke."

Yanking the fork out of his leg, Jareth looked at me with a face of utter betrayal and commented, "It's not my fault her parents hate her. You don't need to become so violent about it."

"You can't go around calling people pigs," I hissed.

"You can if it's their name. 'Pig' in Latin is the same as 'pig' in English except that it sounds nicer."

"And people don't know you're insulting them when you say their name."

"That's their own fault."

I rolled my eyes and saw Porca slowly walking away with her eyes fixed on Jareth in awe. How could someone call another person a pig and still have their complete adoration?

Jareth winked at me and smiled, "It's because I'm gorgeous and charming, precious."

I hadn't meant to say that out loud. Whoops.

He was pouring little dollops of each flavor of syrup onto his finger and licking it.

"Yeah. Real charming," I gibed. Of course, If there weren't some charming aspect of him, I wouldn't have been staring at him as he licked his fingers. It must have been the hair.

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye with a smug look on his face and asked, "You like my hair that much, precious?"

Damn mouth saying my every passing thought. "Maybe I just like when you make me feel like the ring of power with precious this and precious that."

"The one to rule them all. It suits you."

Before I could ask what he meant, Porca was back with our drinks. She sat them all down and took our orders. Once again, she turned to Jareth first.

"Porca, darling," he started in his most charming tone. " I'll have the Original Buttermilk Pancakes."

Her cheeks immediately turned a horrible crimson as he said her name. For some reason, horrible jealousy surged inside of me, so I spat in his drink.

He gave me a self satisfied look, having proven his point. "See, I can be charming if I choose to be."

I angrily muttered, "Blueberry pancakes," as she turned to me.

I turned to Jareth asking, "Why are you so well versed in aboveground literature and languages if you're a fae from the underground?"

"I took foreign studies in school," he answered.

Intrigued by the concept of a magic school with dozens of little Jareths running around, I continued on the subject. "Foreign studies? And what else was on the schedule?"

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, citing, "Foreign studies, politics, economics, debate, fashion… All the subjects useful to a king-to-be."

I choked on my coke as he said "fashion." I looked at him in shock and asked, "You took _fashion class?_"

"Yes, of course."

"It doesn't show."

He turned to glare at me as the waitress returned with the food. This time Jareth didn't even acknowledge her as she set down his pancakes. She lingered for a moment too long after distributing all of the food, as if expecting Jareth to say something to her, before leaving.

Jareth immediately began pouring every flavor of syrup onto his pancakes.

"You're disgusting," I told him; however, I couldn't stop thinking of how the gods ate ambrosia and nectar. Thankfully I didn't say that one out loud. I would have never recovered from it if I did.

Later, as we were driving back to the motel, Mary drove with Jareth shotgun, and Brian and I occupied the back seats.

"You love him, don't you?" Brian asked me quietly so that Mary and Jareth couldn't hear.

"Of course not," I scoffed.

"You ran off with him when you were supposed to be my date. This evening you barely acknowledged the presence of Mary and me."

For the lack of a comeback, I stared silently out the window for the rest of the way back to the motel.

* * *

The sleeping arrangement was that Mary and I would share one bed and the men would alternate between the other bed and the floor. Neither man was willing to share a bed with the other.

As I slept that night, my dreams wandered to the men with black eyes chasing me. I ran down a long, dim corridor with no end or doors in sight. A cramp in my stomach forced me to slow my pace from a sprint to a jog, even though they rapidly approached. I hesitantly glanced over my shoulder and saw that they seemed to be multiplying.

Finally, I saw a door at the end of the hall. I picked my pace back up, ignoring the stabbing pain in my stomach. I yanked the door open and was greeted by nothing but darkness. there was no visible floor on the other side of the door.

One of the men grabbed my shirt and yanked me backwards. His foul breath filled my nostrils. I took in those black, bottomless eyes. It was better to be lost in the blackness on the other side of the door than the blackness of those eyes.

I ripped out of my shirt and jumped. The jolt of the fall woke me.

I bolted up in bed and clutched my chest, panting. Although the men were gone, the pain in my stomach remained. I sprinted from the bed to the bathroom just in time to upheave the contents of my stomach into the toilet.

After heaving multiple times, I turned and saw Jareth in the doorway. He came over to the toilet and sat down next to me.

"Dreams can be magical," he said. "They allow you to wander in your own mind, and sometimes people use magic to join you. They can trap you in them so you have to be careful."

"You mean-" I stuttered. "you mean that was real?"

"Well seeing as I was not in your mind, I don't know exactly what _that _is. Considering that you just vomited your entire supper, the only logical explanation is that more magic is infecting you and making you sick."

I nodded and slumped against his shoulder, too exhausted to support myself for any longer. He scooped me up and carried me over to the bed where he laid me down next to Mary, then went to lay down in his own bed; however, I felt unsafe so I later crawled out of my bed and into his.

"You do realize that we all agreed that I could have this bed to myself tonight?" he whispered as I snuggled against him.

I nodded against his chest and curled up into a little ball as he wrapped his arms around me and we drifted into a much more peaceful sleep.

**A/N: Sorry that Duke wasn't in this chapter. I tried to write him in but it always seemed awkward. Please let me know what you think! As always, constructive criticism is welcome.**


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